


And I Had A Feelin' That I Belonged

by crocs



Series: The Daggermobile [4]
Category: Cloak & Dagger (TV 2018)
Genre: Drive-In Theater, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-07-17
Packaged: 2019-06-12 01:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crocs/pseuds/crocs
Summary: Tyrone sat straight, like he was some kind of princess-in-training with a book on his head; the black t-shirt he wore hung nicely off his frame as he stared at his phone. He was completely enraptured in whatever was happening on the small screen. His face was lit up completely artificially. The light was dim but still helped Tandy see nearly every expression he made scrolling through whatever he was reading. One thing she'd learnt about Tyrone was that he talked with his face more often than not. Apparently, he was reading something entirely shocking.(Sequel toMaybe Together We Can Get Somewhere.)





	And I Had A Feelin' That I Belonged

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
> 
> Title from Tracy Chapman's Fast Car.

As the night grew dimmer and colder, Tandy further disappeared into her blanket. Damn it, it was freaking freezing, and soon, she reflected, she'd just be a sprig of hair peeking out of some cotton. Then, at least, she wouldn't have to watch this goddamn terrible film.

If pressed, Tandy could see the benefits of a drive in movie theatre. For one, it was kinda interesting to see the kind of cars the rest of the world drove. (Mostly minivans, apparently.) It was also apparently a great place for couples to make out; Tandy had made the executive decision to never, ever again look left at the two idiots in the Honda.

Looking to her right, she could see Tyrone.

(That was another benefit, by the way.)

Now, Tandy wasn't the kind of person to wax lyrical about her (frankly few) friends, but she had to make an exception with Ty.

Tyrone sat straight, like he was some kind of princess-in-training with a book on his head; the black t-shirt he wore hung nicely off his frame as he stared at his phone. He was completely enraptured in whatever was happening on the small screen. His face was lit up completely artificially. The light was dim but still helped Tandy see nearly every expression he made scrolling through whatever he was reading. One thing she'd learnt about Tyrone was that he talked with his face more often than not. Apparently, he was reading something entirely shocking.

Belatedly, Tandy wondered what her own face looked like in the dark.

She turned back to the drive-in screen. Cringing at the wooden delivery, she patted Tyrone's arm. He looked at her questioningly.

"Oh my god," Tandy complained. "Oh my god, this movie is awful."

Tyrone shook his head. "I don't know…"

"You don't know what?" She huffed. "That it's completely predictable?"

"Well, obviously, a lot of hard work went into it, right? So..." He shrugged. Tandy rolled her eyes.

And promptly yoinked his phone out of his hand.

"Hey!"

Tandy smiled like the cat who'd got the cream and locked it, stuffing it in the small pouch behind the driver's seat. "You'll get this back when you actually see how bad this film is."

"You're torturing me?"

"That's a bit strong, but yeah."

Tyrone scoffed and focused on the film. His face contorted as he took in the plot — like a kaleidoscope, he seemed to shift from each expression — shock, horror, boredom — effortlessly.

Then he coughed, loudly. "Are you on your own phone?"

Tandy looked up. "Yep."

Tyrone laughed. "Hypocrite," he chastised. "And you're texting..."

"...Evita."

"Wait — what?" Tyrone exhaled loudly, then blinked in disbelief. "My — _ex-girlfriend_ Evita?"

Tandy nodded and squirmed in her blanket a little.

"We're comparing notes," she admitted. He raised an (immaculate, Jesus) eyebrow. "I'm asking her if she ever got taken on a date to watch — wait, what was this again?"

"I don't remember, one sec," Tyrone replied, distracted. He began to rifle through his jean pockets for the flyer, but stopped quite suddenly and raised an accusing finger. "That's not the point!"

"Which is?" She tilted her head playfully.

"Which is how did you even get her number?" He said, exasperated.

Tandy waited a beat.

Her friend crossed his arms over his shirt.

"Okay," she said. She acted defeated, and continued, "I was gonna tell you, but this —" Tandy pointed back and forth — "is actually more entertaining than knock-off Leo DiCaprio over there."

Tyrone squinted through the dirty windshield. "That is Leo DiCaprio."

"Huh. Bad for him, I guess."

They sat in silence for a while, taking in the film.

"Wait, did you say date?"

"Um. Yeah. That okay?"

Tyrone blushed. He smiled a lazy smile, half-forgotten along the way, like he didn't mean to do so in the first place. He ran his fingertips along his seatbelt slowly, from his left shoulder to his right hip. His hand eventually came to rest near Tandy's own, not quite touching; she had the protection of the blanket from the blast that could have occurred should they do.

She let her the edges of her lips curl in response.

"Yeah, yeah," he said, quietly. "More than okay."

* * *

 


End file.
